The official number of bodies found in the destruction of the World Trade Center stood yesterday at 233, and the city medical examiner has identified 170; 5,422 are listed as missing. Here are glimpses of some of those lives.

Confirmed Dead

PAUL V. RIZZA

A Passion for Cooking

Paul V. Rizza learned to cook from his father. They would cook together on weekends -- osso bucco, sauce, pasta from scratch. When Paul cooked Thanksgiving dinner for 20, he worked for days. He hunted down cheesecloth and sent his wife, Elaine, out for a special roasting pan. ''Sometimes I would laugh and get frustrated, 'You don't have to be like Martha Stewart,' '' she said.

Paul and Elaine had a huge garden in their yard in Park Ridge, N.J. They grew tomatoes, cucumbers, basil, oregano, thyme, mint, chives, jalapeno peppers, all for Paul's cooking. The Sunday before the attack on the World Trade Center, they harvested tomatoes and made sauce together. ''He had such a passion for life,'' Elaine said. ''He loved good food.''

Paul, who was 34, worked as an investor services officer at Fiduciary Trust in the trade center. Having grown up near the beach in Babylon, N.Y., he loved boating and fishing, as well as skiing and animals. ''We never got around to getting a dog,'' Elaine said. ''We just got hardwood floors put in. But if he wasn't watching the Yankees or the Food Network, he'd be watching Animal Planet.''

Glenn Wilkinson was 46, but he could act like a youngster when he was with his three children. At the dinner table, his wife would admonish one of their children for doing something inappropriate. ''I'd turn around and he would be doing the same thing,'' said Margie Wilkinson.

He was a lieutenant with Engine Company 238 of the New York City Fire Department. And sometimes, he did not get home to Bayport, N.Y., until very late. Still, his 13-year-old daughter, Kelsie, a straight-A student, would wait up for him. He would sit by her side, happily going over homework she had already finished.

He was solidly built and athletic. He used to curl his arms into a swing for his little ones. As the kids grew older, and heavier, they were reluctant to give up on that bit of fun. In the last year, though, his 12-year-old son, Craig, joined him running. His 8-year-old son, Kevin, rode a bicycle to keep up. On Tuesday morning, the youngest son asked his mother whether the family would have to change its last name now. ''He has no idea if anything is going to remain the same,'' she said.

WILLIAM FALLON

Finished What He Started

William Fallon's family was not surprised when they learned that every member of his department at the Port Authority had escaped but him. He called his wife, Brenda, from his office on the 62nd floor of the north tower at 9:25 a.m. but later made calls from the 64th floor.

They knew he had stayed to help, as he had after the 1993 bombing, when his military training kicked in and he volunteered for the rescue effort. ''He did carry people out in '93,'' said his sister-in-law, Suzanne Fallon. ''So he was probably hanging behind again.''

William, 53, was a general manager in charge of commerce at the Port Authority, a job that took him around the world. He was known to his neighbors in Rocky Hill, N.J., just outside Princeton, as a trim marathon runner, and he was to compete in the Philadelphia Half Marathon on Sept. 16. He came to the sport late -- past 40 -- but he was dedicated to it, and gradually built up his endurance to the point where he could finish a race. ''He always completed what he started,'' said his brother, Donald.

PATRICK ALOYSIUS HOEY

Always First to Volunteer

Patrick Aloysius Hoey was never far behind his four children: Brian, Robert, Michael and Sharon. When they played Little League baseball, he was right there as the coach. When they went to high school, he was the president of the parent-teacher's association. ''He was very active in our lives,'' Brian said. ''All my siblings aspire to be just like him.'' Patrick, 53, married his high school sweetheart, Eileen, and raised his family in Middletown, N.J. If anyone needed help, Patrick, a civil engineer for the Port Authority, was always the first one to volunteer. And he was as generous with his love as with his time. When he stepped through the door at night, he always made sure to greet the family dog, a Maltese named Casey. ''Everybody loved my dad,'' Brian said.

GILBERT RUIZ Sr.

Supported His Siblings

Gilbert Ruiz Sr. grew up on Park Avenue in Harlem, one of seven children. His mother had come to New York from Puerto Rico, his half-brother, William Torres Sr., said. After William's father was shot dead on East 112th Street, his mother was left to raise the children alone, William said. So Gilbert dropped out of high school to support the family.

Gilbert started out as a messenger, his brother said. In those days, the soles of his shoes were perpetually patched with cardboard. Over the years, he worked in a thread factory, the garment district, the kitchen of the Carlyle Hotel and, for the last five years, in the kitchen at Windows on the World. The father of two grown children, he lived alone in the West Bronx. ''Everybody chipped in, but not like my brother Gilbert,'' William said, looking back on their childhood together. Gilbert laid down the law in the family, and was respected for it. ''We come from a rough neighborhood. But he always tried to do everything that was possible to stay away from all that,'' William said. Then he added, ''That's all he know how to do, just work.''

JOSEPH ZACCOLI

The Little Miracles

Joseph Zaccoli's wife, Helen, teaches theology to schoolchildren and yesterday, a few days after her husband's body was found, she went to her children's school, Holy Name of Mary, in their community of Valley Stream, N.Y., to talk. ''These kids are so traumatized, not just mine,'' said Helen, who is mother to three, all under 14. ''I was trying to say that they had to look for miracles beyond the building, little miracles that are happening all over the place.''

She lists some.

''A woman I don't even know at Jamaica Hospital made red, white and blue ribbon pins and sold them and gave me all the money. Every day for the last 15 years, my husband brought me coffee and a muffin. I was telling people that was one of the things that I was going to miss. Yesterday, somebody left coffee and a muffin outside my door.''

Joseph, 39, was a municipal bond broker at Cantor Fitzgerald who somehow found the time to coach five different elementary school athletic teams. Another thing his wife counts as a little miracle -- they found his wedding ring. ''His ring said, 'Till death,' mine said, 'Till us part,' '' Helen said. ''He was on the 104th floor. With all that debris, I can't even fathom how they found it.''

NORBERTO HERNANDEZ

Cooking With Love

Norberto Hernandez, a pastry sous-chef at Windows on the World, whipped up his first dessert in his mother's kitchen at age 12. Only he used too much flour, and the chocolate-chip cookies turned out to be too hard to eat. His family still laughs about that one. Norberto, 42, cooked even on his days off; though he rarely devoured sweets himself, he relished nothing more than plying his wife and three daughters in Elmhurst, Queens, with cookies, cupcakes, muffins, cheesecakes, homemade ice cream. On birthdays and graduations, he baked a two-layered chocolate mousse cake. ''We gained a lot of weight,'' said his daughter, Catherine. ''That was a problem.''

Norberto, a quiet man, never explained to his daughter exactly why he liked to cook so much. But it went without saying that it was always done with love. ''He knew everybody liked the desserts,'' she said. ''So he would make them.''

Reported Missing

DANIEL SUHR

'He Kept Everyone Safe'

Daniel Suhr was the recipient of many nicknames. Captain America was one. Whenever he went out with friends, he would point to exit doors and tell them where to meet him if anything happened. ''He kept everyone safe,'' said his wife, Nancy.

A firefighter, Daniel was rushing to the trade center when someone tumbled out of the sky and on top of him. ''The other firefighters stayed with him because they wouldn't leave him behind,'' his wife said. ''Because they didn't go in, he saved their lives.''

Daniel, 37, loved his job at Engine Company 216. His father was a firefighter and his brother is one. He grew up in Brooklyn, where he was the captain of both the baseball and football teams at James Madison High School. He and his wife began dating when they were in grammar school. Their home is in Rockaway Park, Queens.

Even though he was considered this big, brave firefighter, he could get fairly mushy over his 2-year-old daughter, Briana. He was terrified when she did things like run toward him too fast. ''He loved her more than life itself,'' Nancy said.

NEIL D. LEVIN

A Consensus Builder

Neil D. Levin had plenty of friends in important places: two of them, Gov. George E. Pataki of New York and Acting Gov. Donald T. DiFrancesco of New Jersey, made him executive director of the Port Authority of New York and New Jersey. He watched over New York City's three major airports, its port facilities, most of the area's bridges and tunnel crossings, as well as the agency's crown jewel: the World Trade Center.

In his career, Neil was appointed to other high-level posts, first as state banking commissioner and then as state insurance commissioner. He was chairman of the Federal Home Loan Bank Board of New York and a vice president at Goldman Sachs.

But arguably the most important appointment Neil ever received was one arranged by Senator Alfonse M. D'Amato, with an assist from Claudia Cohen, then Mr. D'Amato's girlfriend: a blind date with Christine Ann Ferer, a style correspondent for NBC. The two were married in May 1996. ''Neil was part of my family,'' Mr. D'Amato said. He added that Neil was a consensus builder -- a trait that helped him significantly on one of his latest projects, as head of the Commission on the Recovery of Holocaust Victims' Assets, which arranged for restitution of property taken from families during World War II.

CHRIS MICHAEL KIRBY

'He Would Help Anybody'

At Yankee Stadium last summer, Chris Michael Kirby raced up and down the escalators looking for a young boy who had wandered off. The boy's father had been frantic, and Chris had offered to help. Finally, Chris spotted the boy stepping into the women's bathroom. He ran in after him, calling out, ''Coming in, girls!''

The son of a Bronx firefighter, Chris grew up in a family used to helping strangers. ''He was a great kid -- he would help anybody,'' said his father, Mickey Kirby.

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Chris, 21, was born on New Year's Day and was nicknamed Happy because of his happy-go-lucky nature. He was working as a carpenter while taking classes to become a firefighter like his father. A few days before he disappeared, he called his family, who now live in Middletown, N.Y. His father told him, as he always did: ''Be good. I love you.'' And Chris responded, as he always did, ''Dad, I love you, too.''

TONYELL McDAY

Energetic Family Booster

They may be aunts, cousins, nephews and nieces, but the three dozen members of the McDay family prefer to see one another as a nuclear family. Once a month, they would come together in one big, boisterous gathering, and invariably, Tonyell McDay was at its creative and energetic nucleus.

An artist and gospel singer, Tonyell, 25, was devoted to her sprawling family, and she was just starting on her next project: a Caribbean cruise next year for the entire group. ''She just loved being part of this huge family,'' said her aunt, Ladora Knight. ''She loved bringing everyone together.''

Tonyell was also deeply spiritual. Her grandfather and uncle are bishops, and her father, Rufus, is a deacon in a local church. Tonyell's choir, Voices of Praise, was about to make its first recording.

A computer technician for Marsh Technologies on the 97th floor of 1 World Trade Center, she lived with her parents in Colonia, N.J. Since the Sept. 11 attack, the house has somehow accommodated dozens of relatives, who have been holding a round-the-clock vigil. ''We're just sleeping all over the house,'' Mrs. Knight said. ''Tonyell would have wanted it that way.''

MARGARET L. BENSON

Card Games and Cruises

Books, card games and cruises were Margaret L. Benson's preferred pastimes, and her older sister, Kathy Savidge, was her constant companion. They had scheduled a Mediterranean dream cruise for 2005 and hoped to retire in North Carolina. Sibling rivals, they grew up to be best friends, and sometimes -- not always -- let their husbands in on their high jinks.

''We planned to become little old ladies together,'' Mrs. Savidge said. ''She was stubborn, set in her ways. I remember in grammar school when the nuns wouldn't give her a perfect 100 average even though she got all 99's and 100's. They told her only God was perfect. She was mad!''

Marge Benson, 52, worked for the Port Authority of New York and New Jersey for 33 years, starting as a clerk and working up to a human resources post. She lived in Rockaway, N.J., with her husband, Jim, and two children, both in college. She was last seen outside a Borders bookstore next to the twin towers.

''A friend told me to think of it this way,'' her sister said. ''She's in a back corner full of books, she's got a card game going, and she's winning. I just wish I could call and tell her that. She'd laugh.''

GUY BARZVI

Planning a Birthday

Guy Barzvi was excited about turning 30 next February. He told his younger sister, Lori, that he was spending too much time on work and too little time on himself. But that was about to change.

''He was trying to figure out how he could have more quality of life,'' Lori said.

The son of Israeli immigrants, Guy often wandered far from his home in Forest Hills, Queens. He had traveled to Seville, Spain, and yearned to return sometime soon. In the meantime, he learned to salsa and strum flamenco on a guitar. Not long ago, he began making plans for his birthday. He had heard of a party scheduled for that day at the Intrepid Sea-Air-Space Museum, and wanted to join the festivities. His sister planned to invite his friends along to sing ''Happy Birthday.'' ''He's just the best guy that I've ever known,'' she said. ''We're still hoping that we'll find him.''

ELIZABETH GREGG

History Before Finance

Elizabeth Gregg was not in her brownstone in Cobble Hill, Brooklyn, when a neighbor walked by on the morning of Sept. 11.

''We had talked the day before about voting,'' said Joseph Igneri, who had lived near her for more than 20 years. She was always punctual, so he figured she had already left to vote, or was at work on the 93rd floor of 1 World Trade Center, where she was an analyst for Fred Alger Management. ''Then I went around the corner,'' Mr. Igneri said, ''and disaster happened.''

Elizabeth, 52, who was known to her friends as Lisa, had no family in the area, so Mr. Igneri took it upon himself to search for his neighbor. ''Somebody had to show for her,'' he said. He searched the hospitals and rescue sites, pasted up fliers and tracked down her dentist for records.

Lisa had worked at Alger for 18 years, but finance was not her first career choice. Before she moved to New York in the late 1970's and earned an M.B.A. from New York University, she eagerly studied history, receiving a doctorate in medieval studies from Yale. Her specialty was defense spending in 15th-century France.

YVONNE BONOMO

Global Traveler

Yvonne Bonomo could not have taken more seriously the word ''world'' in World Trade Center. Not only was she a corporate travel booker for American Express, arranging last-minute global gallivants for executives at Marsh & McLennan on the 94th floor of 1 World Trade Center, but she also loved jetting around the world on the special corporate discounts offered to those in her job.

Only days before the disaster, she returned from Las Vegas, where she had attended a close friend's bridal shower. Although Yvonne was living at home in Jackson Heights, Queens, with her mother, Sonia, and father, John, ''she was really very independent,'' said her cousin, Richie Fabrizi.

But Yvonne, 30, had contemplated sacrificing her cherished independence over the last year; she became engaged to her boyfriend, Anthony Vaccaro. ''All we could tell him is that Yvonne's cellphone records show that she made a call to her mom at 8:51, after the plane hit,'' her cousin said. ''That call never went through.''

Bruce Boehm's love affair with the beach started when he was a teenager. Every summer, he pulled on his swimming trunks and worked as a lifeguard at Nassau Beach, in Lido Beach on Long Island. There was not much money in it, but he just loved being out there.

Bruce, 49, never outgrew that infatuation. Even when he started his career as a financial broker, he continued to lifeguard on weekends for a while. In later years, he trained for marathons and triathlons at the beach, often dragging along his daughters, Brittany, 16, and Stacey, 13.

''He always said, 'The beach is my church,' '' said his wife, Irene. A born talker, Bruce made friends easily at the beach and elsewhere. At his wife's high school reunion, he danced with more people than she did.

''He had an incredible zest for life,'' she said. A memorial service will be held Sept. 29 -- at Nassau Beach.

ASTRID SOHAN

Fashion Enthusiast

Astrid Sohan could not sit still for college. Five times she enrolled and five times she dropped out. She wanted to get going on life, not listen to professors. She went to work, learned computer operating at I.B.M. and Johnson & Johnson and was hired to manage the technical support department at Marsh & McLennan. Her salary there let her do what she loved most: shop. ''Expensive clothes,'' said Clive Sohan, her father. ''Ann Taylor. Talbots. Shoes -- she had too many.''

Astrid, 33, learned about tailoring and natural fabrics from Barbara Sohan, her mother, a dressmaker in Hazlet, N.J. She liked simple leather pumps and classic tailored suits of cotton, silk or wool. She especially loved the jewelry -- like a diamond-chip monkey pendant and a pair of black pearl earrings -- that her mother had brought back from China and Hong Kong.

The other passion she shared with her mother was travel in hot countries. And even in beach towns, her clothes had flair. ''She asked me to make a blouse that's unfinished,'' Mrs. Sohan said. ''Purple. Cotton pique, with short sleeves. Just a little summer shirt to wear with jeans.''

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A version of this article appears in print on September 20, 2001, on Page B00010 of the National edition with the headline: A NATION CHALLENGED: PORTRAITS OF GRIEF: THE VICTIMS; From Those Left Behind, Remembrances of Love, Hopes and Caring. Order Reprints|Today's Paper|Subscribe